


Surreal World

by Icecat62



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Gen, Gun Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icecat62/pseuds/Icecat62
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser never thought his life would be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surreal World

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to my own challenge and the other where a request was made for a post 911 fic. I’m taking off into a different direction than what I usually do…which means it’s not smut. Also a wave at Shirley for urging me to actually get my ass in gear and post a fic, even if it’s a small one.
> 
> Originally posted to RedSuitsYou@yahoogroups.com.

Looking across the horizon, Fraser wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. He always loved long hikes. Adventures in the mountains called to the wild spirit in his soul, but these weren’t his mountains and this wasn’t his land. He was more a stranger here than he had ever been in Chicago.

His boots surprisingly made little noise on the rocky surface as he tracked his quarry. Glancing across at his partner, he motioned for him to remain where he was. He felt a momentary pang of sadness as his thoughts strayed to those of his friends…of his partners. Both Rays, alike, yet so different, were thousands of miles away, hopefully safe and sound in their beds.

Moving slowly, he raised his rifle, sighting his target. His finger wavered on the trigger just as it had all those years ago when he had killed his first deer. This was just like then. An unnecessary death. A needless death. But a life he had to take. It was his duty. The things he did in his life, all in the name of duty and honor. For what? What was the end purpose to it all? Would it ever end?

Depressing the trigger, he swore he could see the bullet as it creased the air, leaving a wake in its path as it made its way to its intended target. He watched calmly as the bullet hit. Watched as the man’s head exploded like an over-ripe melon that had been dropped from a produce bin at one of the tribal markets.

No shot answered his own, but he kept still, his eyes traveling across the landscape, taking in every detail. He hated the fact that they used him like this. When he had volunteered to join he hadn’t thought that this would be his life. He’d thought he could make a difference. Bring peace. Instead they used his talents, his keen senses, to kill.

Seeing nothing other than the dead body down in the ravine, he nodded at his partner and they continued their patrol. Their endless combing of the desert sands for their counterparts.

God how he wished he were back in Chicago standing guard in front of the consulate. Or sitting in one of the hard chairs at the 27th with Ray across the desk from him berating him for his resemblance to Dudley DooRight. Anywhere would be preferable to being in Iraq. Being anything other than a sniper for the Canadian army.

With a resigned sigh, he began scanning the horizon again, looking for any sign of life. A life that he knew would be over once he found it.

END


End file.
